The Second Death
by Eugena
Summary: A second "death" competes for her new job.
1. Death Meet Death

Disclaimer: Discworld series is owned by Terry Pratchett. DOTWPE is my character.

**The Second Death**

By Eugena

Rated: T

A second "death" competes for her new job.

**Chapter One: Death Meet Death**

The sky was ashy in the city of Ankh-Morpork. The grey mist of The Shades loomed ominously about the horizon. A lone figure walked the alleyway, soon interrupted flicker of light bouncing off a knife's blade.

"'Geme all your money," a male voice annunciated poorly.

The figure quickly caught the knife and drew it back upon the assailant.

"Tell Me Now," said the figure holding the knife to the man's throat, "Are You An Apprentice For Thieves Or Assassins?"

"I'm a mercenary."

"Then Your Hands Only Belong In A Dead Person's Pocket."

The man said nothing as he felt the knife press deeper into his throat. A vein ruptured minutely and blood began to define the knife's blade.

"The Blood Is On Your Knife," said the figure calmly. The figure waited a few moments, listening for the beat of a white horse's hooves. The sound did not come, but instead a skeleton appeared before the two.

"Death," the figure greeted, "I Thought You Would Have The Decency To Come On Your Horse."

"WHY IS THAT?"

The figure allowed the knife to slide down the mercenary's throat without beheading him. The figure began to walk away.

"ARE YOU JUST GOING TO LEAVE HIM HERE?"

"That, My Acquaintance, Is Up To You."

"I HAVE NO OPINION IN THE MATTER. I WILL MEET HIM SOONER OR LATER."

"Your Choice," the figure called back.

"IF I HAD BROUGHT BINKY, WOULD YOU HAVE KILLED HIM?"

"No," the figure answered, "I Would Have Just Borrowed Him For A Millennia Or Two. I Don't Have One."

"ALL OF THIS TO RIDE A HORSE?"

"He Was The One Trying To Kill Me."

The figure looks at an old dog lying down by a barrel. The figure extends a hand to trace the outline of one of the dog's pointy ears. The dog slowly closes its eyes and exhales once more.

"It Looks Like I Have Another Dog In The House."


	2. A Question of Biology

Disclaimers, etc.: see chapter one

**The Second Death**

**By Eugena**

**Chapter Two: A Question of Biology**

The Janitorial Engineer prided himself on his title. He was more educated than the Dunnyman (albeit, it was one question in biology). Humming to himself and boasting in his mind, the Janitorial Engineer did not notice the change in the air.

The shadow of an unknown figure loomed about him. The sun went down several marks in the sky before he turned around. The air began to cool. As he turned, he examined two ominous figures in debate.

The shadow of the first backed away, as the sun moved off its subject. Only a rat was heard scurrying away from the scene, while one figure remained. Long brown hair framing deep blue eyes stared at him. The black wrappings of the figure hung forebodingly in his mind. With as much courage as he could muster, he mumbled, "...Death?"

"Just of Those With Pointy Ears," said the figure matter-of-factly.

"All of them?" he asked, his right fingertips now brushing his right ear.

"Well, Not All Of Them. Not Hamsters, Gerbils, Mice Or Fleas."

"Fleas? They have ears?"

"I've Never Checked."


	3. A Destined Meeting, One Word

Diclaimers, etc.: see chapter one

**The Second Death**

**By Eugena**

**Chapter Three: A Destined Meeting, One Word**

_Death of Those with Pointy Ears watched the Death of Rats busily reap souls from a sunken ship. She did not look for Death._

_A drop out wizard once saw the Death of Rats, and his retelling got told and mistold hundreds of times. Somehow, she appeared._

_In her gratitude, she came to the wizard who began it all and said the word he feared most: "Eight."_

**oOo**

Rincewind jolted up from his table. Yes, he had passed out drunk again. He had hoped to drink with his friend The Librarian, but he had plans. Rincewind had dreamt of mice and rats and saw them dance around in circles, wearing black robes and holding scythes.

He _really_ needed to cut back on the Ankh water. It was free, but it was deadly.

A lone figure walked in. A rather _attractive_ figure—except for the strange pointed ears and pointed teeth. The woman was dressed in leather, but for some reason, she reminded him of an animal. A hamster maybe.

"_Cut back on the water," _he thought, "_way__ back."_

The woman sat down across from him.

He really was dreaming.

"Hello, Rincewind," the woman said.

"Who ya' mean? Me? I don't see no Rincewater," he became nervous.

"I have one word for you," she said as she reached for his scraggly beard. "Eight."

Panic ran through him. He felt the forbidden spell of the Octavo rage at the back of his skull. "You didn't say that."

"Eight."

"Don't say that!" He sobered up very quickly now.

"Eight."

A light exploded in his head.


End file.
